IN this city, crime not only can pay – it can earn you and your entire family free karate instruction, swimming lessons and aerobics classes!

In a move that has rankled some law-enforcement types and angered poor, law-abiding teens, a city agency has quietly started buying family memberships at the YMCA in Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn, to give away.

The requirement for getting a free pass to the Y’s spacious basketball courts and Olympic-size swimming pool?

You could be declared an uncontrollable youth by the city’s Family Court system. Or, you might be a first-, or even second-time offender of certain felony or misdemeanor crimes.

In April, the city Department of Probation launched a program called Juvenile Substance Abuse and Violence Deterrence – or J-SAVD. (Excited officials pronounce it Jay-Saved.)

The program, whose goal is to steer kids from lives of crime, involves 10 families in Brooklyn and Manhattan, but is expected to expand to the clans of “certainly hundreds” of juvenile delinquents, said a Probation spokesman.

The goal is worthy. But the part that upsets some people not eligible for J-SAVD – that is, kids who go to school and church without stopping to, say, steal a car – is that many youths who walk the straight and narrow can’t go to the Y because they can’t afford it.

The other day, around the corner from the Y’s imposing, 1906 red-brick structure, Shyheim Atwood and two teen-age friends played basketball in the middle of the sidewalk because, they complained, the Y put a brick wall around the court they once used free of charge.

Asked why he doesn’t simply play ball at the Y, Shyheim said, “Because you have to have, like, $35.”

Actually, the cost of a solo youth membership is $65 each year, and jumps to $245 at age 18. Memberships for up to six family members – the kind being awarded by Probation – run $345 annually. Karate and swimming classes cost non-delinquents an additional $35 to $40 per kid per four-week session.

All of which is beyond the reach of many in Bed-Stuy.

“I keep my kids in church,” said Clara Chirse, 39, a Bed-Stuy resident who’s raising three teen-agers of her own, plus two tots sired by her 21-year-old son.

Joining the Y “would be good for them, keep them off the streets,” said Chirse. But the cost is prohibitive.

“My 15-year-old got his bike taken from him once,” she said. “I try to teach him that not everyone is bad, there are good people in the world.”

The kid who stole her son’s bike could be eligible for free Y membership, while her kids are not.

While reluctant to discuss the “infant” program in detail, Probation spokesman Jack Ryan said J-SAVD is designed to include not only uncontrollable kids – called Persons in Need of Supervision, or “PINS” – but first- and second-time offenders of non-violent felonies and misdemeanors.

That would include those who’ve committed such crimes as robbery, car theft and possession of a controlled substance with intent to sell.

Ryan was uncertain whether weapons possession would be deemed a violent crime. “A screwdriver can be a weapon,” he said.

The philosophy behind J-SAVD is to keep kids out of jail by “addressing the root problem, problems in the home, such as anger issues,” said Ryan. This is done through community-based counseling and career and recreation programs.

But as one law-enforcement source familiar with the program sees it, “It’s one thing to give someone another opportunity. It’s another to give someone something of value simply because they failed miserably.

“It’s one thing to put money into public schools. It’s another to put public money into aerobics classes.”

Said another source: “This is a great idea – for the 1960s.”

Ryan said Probation has bought memberships at the Bed-Stuy Y for five families in the program, and is considering more.

Kevin Jeffrey, director of the Y, which serves about 5,000 members, most of whom pay their own way, said he was unfamiliar with the J-SAVD program. But, he said, he’d be happy to talk with Probation about taking on more at-risk kids.

The idea of teaching budding criminals karate as an alternative to selling drugs might be a good one – if it works. But this program strikes some as a reward for youths who choose the wrong path.

“At least they’re keeping the people off the street,” reasoned DeAndre Everett, 16, as he played hoops with his pals on the sidewalk of Gates Avenue.